Arthur found his love by sucking at football
by Kumajiou
Summary: Arthur is a lonesome by having to live by himself in such a barren place, comes across a foreigner who he accidentally knocks out with his football, though he does no realize that this man will change his life. Rated M for futur chapters.
1. The Frenchie

Man, first time writing really, I'm just doing so to pass time and such, though I will be carrying this story on and watch out for my next chapters. I rated it M since it will be getting very hot -chuckles- I'm writing this with someone in mind ~ x

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The distant cries of birds fleeing from the barren field can be heard like a loud whisper, mixing with the whirring sound of the wind as it brushes past Arthur's ears softly. It seems to comfort him, keeping his breathing at a mellow rate, eyes still clamped shut as the breeze now weaves through his messy blonde hair. The noise of the birds seems to scatter and now are just distant, the only company is the long uncut grass that brushes against his legs, causing his brows to furrow in annoyance at the slight tickling.

He needed to pay his full attention to his mind, his soul... to become calm and even, like laying all your worries out and storing it away so all he thought of was the one thing he had yet to do. Now, it was silent, he new it was time. Arthur's eyes shot open, the sun still hidden behind the mass of white clouds that filled the sky still hurt his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness, though his intentions were fixed on the slightly scruffy football that was around six metres away from him, sitting at the start of a slightly overgrown football field that sat near his mansion. He was dress smartly (if a football uniform is smart) in his new England football kit that he ordered after his frantic search for it, as he was such a fan for his own country. Arthur grunted, suddenly shifting from his spot as he lunged for the ball that was settled in the grass, pulling his foot back as he drew near before he swung it harshly, waiting for the moment when his foot made contact with the ball. As it did, Arthur had his eyes squeezed shut, though opened them to see what his magnificent kick did. Smiling, he looked around, though the smile soon returned to a frown in a split second as he saw the ball was not in sight. Arthur, now dazed, turned on his heel to see if the ball and run off somewhere else, though the hairs on his neck started to stand on end, which of course meant something bad was about to happen. Quickly shooting his head up to the direction of the sky, the ball was plummeting down towards him, of course Arthur just gaped at it as it smacked him in the face, softly landing on the ground and rolling away near the rusty goal post.

"Shit! Fucking twat of a ball you, bloody imbecile!" Arthur wailed in agony as he held his face in both hands, soon falling on his knees as he curled up pathetically. The ball had smacked his bare skin and bumped his nose which always hurt more than it seemed. He rubbed the red patch that seemed to be appearing on his forehead, and stroked his nose as he whimpered, cursing very crude and impolite things to the ball. If the ball had been alive, it probably wouldn't of been very happy with the things that were spilling from his mouth.

Arthur really couldn't believe such a thing had happened! He had a clean shot at the ball and it should of just amazingly hit the back of the net like every professional could do, though it decided to act like a twat and do the opposite to what he wanted. Arthur, huffing in annoyance pulled himself up from the spot that had now created an indent of his small body that curled up on the ground. He had spent most of his morning dragging the stupid goal post out of the garage so he could mess around and now it was ruined, mainly because Arthur had such a short temper, and new he would need the rest of the day to cool off from the unexpected happening. Lazily trudging back through the grass and damp patches of mud, he now pondered over what tea he should have left in his cupboard. It was nice since tea always softened him up like a sponge dipped in water. After letting himself into his house, he had kicked off his slightly mucky football boots and was now sat with his legs up on his soft coffee coloured sofa with a hot mug of coco, since his favourite tea had run out and chocolate was nice to have every so often. He softly blew on the surface, sighing as he noticed how quiet everything was and how barren he suddenly felt.

Arthur had always lived by himself since he was sixteen and was able to move out, since other people just always found ways to piss him off to no extent. His father who owned a very popular tea company that distributed many kinds of tea was filthy rich and ended up kicking little Arthur out, letting him pick any house he wanted. Arthur just picked a huge house near the sea surrounded by greenery and fields. It was what he loved the most ,being in a calm and relaxing place so no one could get on his nerves and set him off on some stupid cursing rampage. He loved taking strolls along through the fields and then by the coast line as it was a twenty minute walk away. Arthur clutching onto his mug, suddenly felt the heavy weight that longed to be notice drop down in his chest and was starting to weigh his emotions down. He needed someone. He was twenty three and longed for company, yet despised it so much that he just wanted to erase the word and meaning from existance. If only someone was understanding enough, so desperate for Arthur that they won't mind him being rude and annoyed all the time. If only someone like that existed and wanted to love him...

"I hate all of this soppy shit!" He exclaimed loudly, his words echoing through his barren house as he aggressively shoved the mug to one side, the chocolate now split and making a circle around the mug on his coffee table. Arthur couldn't care less, cursing to himself as he thought about how he could even dream of such an idiotic thing. He quickly grabbed his England hoodie, pulling it on over his football top, shoving his house keys into his pocket he shot out the door, letting the door shut by itself as he received his ball and started running through the field and jumping over a fence. Sudden urges of energy shot through his body as he hurried along a path through the field he was now in, jumping over big clumps of grass with sudden woops of enjoyment as he clutched to his football tightly. He could already smell the salt sea air mixed with the fresh scent of cut grass that lingered calmly around, though caused Arthur to sneeze lightly a few times.

Once Arthur reached a nice area of flat ground, on a cliff by a deserted beach, he grinned and set his ball down on the ground. The salty air was refreshing, cleansing all his doubtful thoughts, and no one was around which was even better! Arthur quickly was dribbling the ball across the field, kicking it away from the cliff edge and cheering when he pretended he has scored a goal every time he did so, imagining he was in the actual England team, being praised by all the cheering fans and getting loads of attention from people. The biggest grin was now spread across his face, beaming as he looked up at the sky, collecting the ball from the made up goal and kicking it again, though the ball did not go into the goal but bounced off of a large boulder and flew past him. He was slightly relieved it did not come and hit him in the stomach, but it was now dangerously rolling towards the cliff edge. Arthur gasped, sprinting towards the edge to receive the ball, though in his desperate attempts to grab it, he nudged it and it rolled gently off of the cliff. Arthur gaped, not believing he had just done such a stupid thing! He needed to get his ball back, he loved it so much and it was the only one he had in the house. Also, he really did not want to venture into the city to buy a new one.

Quickly scrambling over to a footpath, he raced down the side of the cliff until he was safely down on the soft sand. The studs in his boots were sinking into the ground, creating funny looking markings every time he stepped. It was amusing, but he had to now find his ball. Arthur darted down the beach, sand flicking up with most steps he took. He whipped his head around, though he could not see his ball, though he saw something else. It was large! Bigger than him, and lying face down... it was... a person! Arthur gasped, approaching the person slowly until he was a few metres away from the body. He was not wet, very nicely dressed! He looked foreign though Arthur could only see the back of his head which was covered in long blonde curls that settled on his shoulders softly. Athur felt embarassed by this man when he noticed his ball settled near him in the sand. How distressing! Arthur had knocked this poor man out because he was stupid enough to play right by the cliff edge. Arthur now moved closer and knelt by the still body. He was so tempted to thread his fingers through the gorgeous blond hair, but didn't because well he was a stranger and he may just be sleeping, though by the dents in the sand near the body, it looked like he fell. Breathing becoming ragged, he pushed the body over so he was now on his back. Arthur did blush heavily when he looked down at the face of the foreigner. He looked like an angel peacefully sleeping, his face showing no sign of disturbance. His face looked so touchably smooth and his lips seemed so healthy and kissable...

Arthur literally smacked himself there and then and the sudden thought, like a wave that hit you and sent you back into reality. "Stupid fucking lonesome asshole you..." He cursed, though his voice drifted off. He was turned away from the man, and suddenly felt a firm hand on his ankle, squeezing softly. Arthur's breath suddenly ceased as he turned to face the figure who was now sitting up. "Ahhh your words are so alarming mon petit monsieur." The foreigner spoke, his voice so gentle and alluring.  
But Arthur only stared ,suddenly grimacing and muttering, "A frenchie, great."


	2. Greetings froggie

Woo~ Second hapter already~

* * *

Arthur was a little shocked that he couldn't tell this man's nationality from the moment he saw him. He of course had the beautiful and brilliantly kept hair, glossy like he had been pampering it before he came out. His eyes were pure though of course had that hidden adoration in them and caring self, blue bouncing off of green as their eyes met. He had from what he could see, silk like skin that probably would be smooth by the touch, which Arthur was tempted to reach out and cup the French man's cheeks in his hand and run his thumbs across the tempting skin. He had a crooked smile that Arthur new most French men had, since they were all perverts who drew women and well people to their beds whenever they wanted, with looks alone. Arthur decided upon leaving now, he new the man was capable of now getting up and leaving the beach, and Arthur was also pondering on why the hell this man was here anyhow. This beach was deserted for a reason, since loads of fossil hunters had made the cliff sides weak and they collapsed a lot. This guy was just looking for trouble, or looking for someone to find his buried body after he comes face to face with the cliff face.

Arthur eased up, knees wobbling slightly as the new wave of guilt spread across his body. The man looked fully confused on why Arthur was getting up, though there was also worry in those deep pools.

Arthur coughed a little, clearing his throat before he announced formally, "I'm sorry that you got in this situation, though you seem to be fit enough to make it out of here by yourself." Arthur nodded to the man, who suddenly shot an awful smirk at him. The hair on Arthur's neck bristled as the Foreigner replied with, "Ahh if you want to act like a proper gentleman, you may want to consider getting lessons on being polite, qui?"  
Arthur's cheeks suddenly went red, his pride all thrown out the door as he gritted his teeth, watching the man get up swiftly. He looked like such a pansy! Brushing himself down and all, checking to see his hair was okay also.  
"I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I can assure you-"

"Je suis vraiment d sol mon cher, I should not of talked that way to you after you came to see if I was al-right." The French man sighed softly, rubbing his temples. He looked like he was in pain? The anger started to slip away from Arthur's expression, which now was replaced with concern. He approached the French man, slightly bent over and peering from underneath to get a better look at the French man's face. "Are you al-right?" Arthur blinked, the French man's eyes were squeezed shut and he was frowning an awful lot.

One thing Arthur new that the French were very loving passionate people, so one, he would have to be careful, and two, he was worried as this man was not doing as he expected from first meeting. Suddenly, the blue eyes appeared again as he looked down onto the Arthur's face, a smile appearing as he seemed to swell up with happiness. Arthur just returned the smile with a shocked look and blush, drawing himself back so he was standing up straight. Francis softly brushed his hair back, grinning at Arthur as he looked him up and down, "You look so cute in that outfit Monsieur, and before my manners seem to slip..." He brushed his hand so quickly across Arthur's that he let out a yelp as the French man held it, placing a kiss on the smooth part of the back of his hand. Soon continuing as he winked to Arthur's now flushed face, "My name is Francis Bonnefoy. May I ask of yours?"

His smile widened, looking like a crude smirk. Arthur was drawn back slightly, gulping with a shaky reply, "M-my name is Arthur, Arthur Kirkland..." He quickly pulled his hand back after noticing the French man's lips were centre metres away from the surface. "May I ask what you are doing on this beach? I'm sure you saw a sign not far from here explaining why you must not really venture onto this beach." Arthur huffed, whipping his head around just in case there was a sign nearby. Francis pouted back at Arthur, "No, I did not. I thought this beach looked magnificent from up there... also the scenery and the calmness of everything is great for painting amongst." He chuckled, sly look crossing his face.

"May I ask why you are here if I am not allowed?" He kept his eyes fixed to Arthur, which made him hop foot to foot in a nervous attempt to make Francis drop his gaze. He huffed, burying his face into the top of his hoodie as he looked down, "I was playing football and the ball rolled off the cliff... When I came down to find it I saw you and my ball..." He glanced up, catching Francis grimacing as he replied with a low mutter, "So that's what hit moi..." He shook his head, looking pleased than ever. "I'm sure you drove here, since there are no settlements for miles, as far as I know." Francis asked, though Arthur scoffed and shook his head.

"I for one don't like to drive, it is dangerous. Also, I live around here." "Ahh! Qui est brillante! Do you mind if I return with you so I may call a cab to a hotel I'm supposed to be staying at tonight? If it is not a bother of course." Arthur became slightly weary. He never had visitors, actually he couldn't remember that last time anyone entered his home but him. He generally hated people as a whole as they mocked him most of the time for his attitude and his ... eyebrows.

"N-no not at all Francis... I mean sir." Arthur could tell this man was older than him, only by a few though since he had the young and handsome charm about him still. Francis eyes lit up as he replied with an ecstatic tone, "Ahh Merci vous homme adorable anglais! I shall get my things quickly, they are only over there." Before Arthur could even ask about what the hell the French man said, he was bounding off down the beach to where a few bags were sitting against a rock.

Arthur sighed, feeling stupid for inviting not only a stranger but a French man into his home. Hopefully it would not last long. Arthur scuffed the front of his football boots against the cliff side, kicking it lightly with his hands in his pockets, pondering over the situation. It should not be a big deal, since this man was obviously quite unsure about England, and was obviously a foreigner as he still added quirky French into his sentences. Arthur despised it a little since he didn't have a single clue of what he said, though the words echoed in Arthur's head. They sounded pretty, charming and full of passion. The French language always seemed to have that affect on the person listening, since it was the language of love.

Scoffing loudly, Arthur gave another playful kick, though his scoff was now drowned out by a sudden groaning coming from the towering cliff above him. Arthur's breath hitched, eyes growing wide as he felt that same tingle run down his spine as what happened outside with the football.  
"Monsieur! D placer!" A sudden cry came from his left, drawing his attention to the French man now racing down the beach, dropping his bags on the way. Arthur glared, forgetting about the rocks and just thinking about what the friggin' hell he was shouting, though something hit him. Arthur let out a yelp, before tumbling back and collapsing onto the sand. All went dark, only distant cries of a confused French man lingered about, with the scent of roses now filling his nostrils as he started to slip away into a sleep.

* * *

A wafting sweet scent filled the air. Arthur felt warm and cosy, like he was wrapped in a blanket and was wearing pure cotton. Suddenly slipping back into reality, Arthur's eyes fluttered open. His vision was slightly blurry though he could see he was facing the back rest off the sofa. Arthur smiled, knowing everything he thought happened was actually just a dream! Good, because he did not want visitors-

Arthur suddenly felt a rush of pain spill over his head, and he let out a pain filled piercing cry. His whole body cringed and he brought his hands up to grasp his hair. He was in complete agony, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. Thoughts now spilled into his head. Was he going to die? The pain sure was real enough and hurt enough to be something near to death. He rested his head back down on the bottom of the sofa, well what he though was the sofa. He felt shifting under his legs, which were either side of something. Suddenly, it jerked forward and a man sat up, rubbing his eyes. Arthur gaped. Why the hell- so it wasn't a dream! This was the French man from the beach that he invited back...

"Mon doux! What is the matter?" He was fully awake, concern filling his eyes like a reflection of the face he gave Francis when he thought the man was in pain. He didn't want to cry in front of this bastard who had obviously seen him naked now, since Arthur was in a loose white shirt and blue shorts. The emotion ended up swelling so badly that huge tears were released and now rolled down his cheeks, eyes becoming red and watery. Francis gasped and leaned forward, his thumbs softly paced under his eyes as they brushed the gathering tears away.

What the hell! Arthur would of jumped off of this man and started beating him to death if it wasn't for the pain that struck him everything he tried to think about this awkward situation.

"G-get lost!" Arthur wailed, eyes clamping shut as he started to cry harder, bringing the backs of his hands up to wipe them away himself. The French man just tutted, sympathy filling his voice as he brought his strong arms around Arthur, pulling him close as he started to mutter comforting words to the now gob-smacked Brit.

He, never in his life had ever received such attention from anyone, apart from when he was a baby, but he was now a twenty-three year old virgin with some French perv with no thought for other people's personal space, hugging him and comforting him like a couple would obviously do.

Arthur tried pulling away, but strong hands were placed on his waist as he was hauled up onto Francis lap. Arthur bit his lip, blushing heavily with the attention.

"Arthur, you warned me about venturing near the tumbling rocks of the cliff yet you yourself was not cautious enough.." His graceful fingers traced around the top of Arthur's forehead, before moving some of his fringe out of the way, revealing a sore bruise. He was careful not to touch it, though Arthur did not trust him as his dainty fingers wrapped around Francis' hand to prise it away. Francis looked a little hurt, though was more pleased Arthur was awake.

"H-how did you get back here, with me.." His blush darkened when he looked at where he was laying on top of the French man, and at the fact Francis had changed Arthur into more comfy clothes.

"I carried you back up a footpath with you hung over my shoulders, I also had to drag my luggage along. I was wondering around for quite some time until I came across your huge house, excusez-moi I mean mansion." His eyes glittered with pride for being able to help Arthur out. Arthur did not return the respectable look Francis seemed to long for, though he cocked his eyebrow.

"Yet, you could of dumped me in the sea and taken my keys which include my house key, car key and safe key?" Arthur questioned, a little displeased that he said it though it was true. That was one thing most people thought in those types of situations.

Francis gasped, fluttering his eyes as he said in a hurt voice, "Quelle horreur! I would not do such a thing to such a cute English man! You helped out moi when he was hit in the head, so moi helped his cher out when he was hit in the head by a rock. It was pretty big. I was hoping to ring a hospital when I go back, though I did not know what number to use.." He bit his lip, ashamed and guilty.

"I was so worried I decided to get you into more suitable clothes and lay with you just in case something happened. Oh Arthur, I'm tres pleased you are al-right." The French man hugged Arthur more close, more personal than he wanted. Arthur just ended up doing the opposite to what his normal actions would be, as he now lay his head under Francis' chin, hiccuping slightly.

"I can assure you I am in a lot of pain, though, I do believe I am well enough to look after myself, sorry to disappoint you.." He wanted Francis to stay, though he new it was to much of a step forward to suddenly turn around to a stranger, or a rescuer and ask them to spend the night after finding out he undressed you and dressed you again, and let you lay on top of him like an innocent lover.

Arthur glanced over to the grandfather clock that sat in the corner of his room, gaping. It was 11:30? That could not be possible since he went out around 3pm. He looked out of the drawn curtains just to see pitch black. Of course he had to sleep for such a long time! Arthur new deep down he could not suddenly push Francis out of his home at such an hour. Francis was just watching, a smile embedded as he watched Arthur ponder over things.

"Do you... do you want to spend the night here..." Francis smile dropped, looking slightly shocked. Arthur spluttered and continued, backing it up so it didn't sound corny or weird, "..Well you don't have to of course, but It's extremely late and I would hate to just send you away so soon..." He gulped, watching Francis. He had just completely screwed up his reputation of being some scrawny and angry English man.

"Qui! That is so darling of you!" The French man suddenly blurted out, placing one of his hands on top of Arthur's head, ruffling his hair up. He could hear him snicker slightly as he commented dangerously, "So cute, your hair is very 'punk' like." Arthur just screwed his face up and growled, "You're french, you do not know the word even if you tattooed it on your dick." Francis just laughed back at the now reddening English man. Arthur himself was a little punk, as he still owned a few outfits from his teenager years and had these big black boots, covered in buckles and spikes. Arthur couldn't believe he hadn't thrown them out years ago as he replaced his wardrobe with more gentleman things, though the punk seemed to stay as he wore union jack shirts with netting, skinny jeans and bandannas still.

Arthur struggled, desperate now to get out of the French man's grip. He was not helping by smothering poor Arthur, since his head felt like someone was constantly throwing brick at his head. Arthur ended up grabbing a clump of Francis's hair and yanking so hard it made the French man scream almost.

"Abandonner! Stop it!"

" I want out!" Arthur sneered, Francis letting him free and pulled away, a mocking sob coming from Francis. The French man pretended to cry, as they were good actors.

"I'm not sure why you are so nice one minute, and the next it's like you suddenly hate moi?" Arthur scoffed when Francis said this, as he could see a sly grin sudden spread across his face as he winked.

Arthur laughed a little, sliding off the sofa before turning back round to Francis.  
"I have many rooms in the house, you can pick any spare room to stay in." Arthur nodded, grabbing the French man's bags, though ended up dropping them back down.

"What the hell..."

"Ahh Merci mon amour, and be careful! I have my art supplies thankfully in the bag you did not just drop back down. I have other stuff in there too so let moi carry them. Wouldn't want you to fall and make another red mark on your head." he sniggered, Arthur scowling as he already left Francis and his bags downstairs, calling back, "Fine! Take them to your room by yourself! Oh and one more thing... Don't decided to wank in any of the spare beds because I'm the one who has to clean it up." With that Arthur marched to his room, of course he just got so frustrated with every petty comment, though that was Arthur for you.

Francis chuckled before bringing a soft smiled to his face as he stood there alone now, though he could still ear the English man talking to himself loudly. How peculiar! Francis grabbed his bags and now made his way up the stairs. His bags were not as heavy as Arthur made them out to be, though he had such a smaller frame so it was fine. Francis found a large room, not to far from one of the bathrooms though furthest from Arthur's, which was a shame. Francis ended up shoving his bags in a corner before pulling all his clothes off, as he slept nude, and got comfy under his quilt.

Hopefully the Brit would stop whining.


	3. Take your leave

Sorry, I have been so busy and stuch to other things.. and wow! Nearly my birthday! Well, I had no internet on holiday, so I decided to just write and wrote this~ Please enjoy and yes, there is quite a scene~

* * *

Arthur had struggled to sleep that night. Not only was his head sore from being hit by rocks, but the fact that someone else was resting in his house, a French man too! He did wake up from being knocked out on the guy and fully changed into something other than what he was wearing previously. It just angered him to the fullest!

Arthur clutched to his duvet tightly, nuzzling softly into the soft cotton as he started to gain conscious. A small and delightful scent did tingle his senses, causing his eyes to suddenly flutter open.

Wow, Arthur was as everyone new such a horrid cook, so the smell of fresh cooking did make his mind go a little soppy and start to make his stomach roar from anger and hunger. Arthur never really ate properly as he couldn't. He didn't want to live off of fast food, but his cooking looked poisonous! He new which he would rather eat, and it was probably the greases American stuff. He did have fish and chips every Friday though.  
Arthur stretched in bed, trying to the find the edge with his feet before pulling his body off. If he was any sleepier he probably would of just collapsed onto the floor.

The luxurious scent just hit him as he opened his bedroom door, wafting around his whole house as if a gas bomb was let off.  
There was a tinge of roses amongst the newly realised sweet aroma. Arthur started to drag his heavy feet across the landing, soon plonking down the stairs until they shifted all the way to the kitchen.

Arthur then froze and just glared. Francis, the guy he let stay in his home was...naked?

Arthur squealed, which of course caused Francis to whip around so Arthur could now see his manly glory.

"Now what the fuck are you playing at! Why the bloody hell are you naked you stupid twat!" Arthur now went to shield his eyes with his hand, heaving grimacing at the scene.

He could just hear a bawdy laugh coming from the huge ass hole, before footsteps now closed in on Arthur.  
"Ah! Bonjour mon cher! I didn't expect you to be up and was going to bring your breakfast up."  
"But why the fuck are you naked!" Arthur screamed.

"I'm air drying, since I could not find any towels." Francis shrugged a little, going back to his cooking.  
Arthur just pushed his upper lip out, storming out of the room like an upset child.

Francis thought it was adorable the way Arthur decided to act. He turned back to his cooking, two pancakes simmering at the same time, both of course for the Brit. Francis had already had something to eat and decided to treat Arthur to some breakfast in bed, but of course that wasn't going to happen now.

Francis was just turning off the heat, when he felt a nice cosy woollen texture hang off his hips and soft fingers brushing against his skin.  
Francis sneered and looked around to see Arthur's face bright red with either anger or embarrassment Francis guessed.  
"Merci~" Francis said, securely putting it around his waist before it slid down to his hips nicely supported.

"I hope you like pancakes. I do not know if you have any syrup, but if you do and would like some..." Francis smiled as Arthur's tedious face brightened up.

Food! Arthur was actually buzzing with happiness then. Yeah, Francis was going to be annoying company, but he didn't expect him to do him a good deed.

Francis plated the pancakes, Arthur going into the cupboard to grab a bear shaped bottle of golden syrup.  
Arthur hurriedly sat down, before the plate was set down in front of him. Arthur only stared at the dish for a while taking in the sight and the gorgeous smell before coating it in the golden goo that oozed out of the bottle.

Francis was just sat opposite him, his chin resting on his hand as he supported it. He had a wide and flirty grin showing as he watched Arthur dive into the meal.

"I say, I don't think I have ever seen a man eat so messily, specially a gentlemen like yourself."  
Arthur looked up, syrup sliding down his cheek. God knows how it got there.

Francis leaned over the table, licking his thumb before wiping it off slowly, before bringing his hand back and licking the sweet stuff off of his fingers.

"Mmmmmn~"  
Arthur just gaped a little, face becoming increasingly red again. How embarrassing! A note to self, make sure to eat ad around French people.  
Arthur ate up the pancakes, taking his dish over to the sink.

"Umm, so , what is it you want to do today...?" Arthur questioned, looking to Francis.  
Francis shrugged a little, a warm smile showing.

"Most likely going to find the hotel I was meant to be staying in. I need to stay there till I can afford my own house after a few art comissions."  
Arthur's heart suddenly sunk a little. He was leaving, and Arthur was going to be alone. He new it was going to happen, he couldn't make Francis stay with him, but the company the nice... he had to heartedly admit.

Arthur sighed a little, muttering, "I see, well, you can leave when you want." Arthur then turned on his heel and exited the kitchen.  
Francis just blinked a little. Had he said something wrong? Was it impolite in England to only stay at ones house for a night? No, he hadn't heard of that before. It was a little impolite to say he was leaving for his normal lodgings, but he was so he didn't have to reason to conceal it.  
Arthur returned to his bedroom, pulling his clothes off quickly.

"How could he just leave! I would think my house is far better than some stupid English hotel..." Arthur continued to mutter angrily, completely naked and not hearing footsteps closing in on his room.

Francis was coming up to ask if he could wash up also, and maybe see if something was wrong with the Brit.

Arthur was by the door to his bedroom, holding some boxers as he started cursing angrily, leaving a small pile in front of his bedroom door.  
"Ah Arthur..." Francis started to say as he flung the door open. Arthur screeched in surprise, trying to hide his cock of course.

"What the fuck!" he shouted, causing the poor French to stumble forward a little at the sudden ear splitting sound, tripping right over the oddly placed pile of clothes, falling on top of the Brit and back onto the bed. He towel had been yanked from him as it snagged on the door.  
Arthur just stared up, eye twitching ash is face started to boil up.

Their naked body's touched, Francis pressed up against the Brit's. Their crotches were of course squashed together, and instant arousal popping up from the Brit.

Francis could feel this, and of course the normal reaction to such a thing is your own arousal starting to grow.

"Oh my..." Francis felt embarrassed now, of course pulling himself off of the dazed Brit, taking his leave and of course unsnagging his towel.  
Arthur lay on the bed, panting and hard. What the fuck was all he could think. Death of embarrassment must be true since it really was now killing him on the inside, a mockery of the scene repeating itself over and over in the poor Brit's head.

Tears then swelled up at the corner of his eyes, rolling onto his side before letting a hand slide down to his cock. He could feel in was hard, but why by such a thing! He started to rub his thumb over the tip, tear filled sobs and mewls escaping from the Brit's lips as he started to jerk himself off. He couldn't just neglect it, but he felt so stupid doing that.

Francis merely fled from the room, back to his own before shutting it swiftly. He then pressed himself back against the door, huffing and rubbing his temples. That moment was so, intimate was all he could think. His own cock had decided to grow and of course did not deserve to be left, but he did leave it, neglecting the thoughts of being on top of Arthur...

He lightly blushed, going over to his suitcase to pull out some clean clothes. This was something Francis wasn't used to, and specially with a man.  
Francis was practically a women's man. Women just drew into him as if he was a lamp drawing in moths.

He had have so many times where he brought them home and pleased them for a while for a one night stand, never any longer. He doubted he would ever do anything with one women more than once. He wouldn't allow it, as attachments were to so good with Francis.

He quickly pulled on clean boxers, taking out some black jeans and a simple white button up shirt that he of coursed dressed himself up in swiftly. After that, he did just sit for a while. He could hear faint moans which of course he noticed when they first started. They were not alien so Francis just accepted it and dare not venture out right now. They were also filled with loud sobs.

He doubted that he could spend another night here as Arthur probably wouldn't allow that. It was drawing into late morning, and Francis was ready to take his leave. Arthur probably was still up in his room crying so Francis thought it was better to leave him. He quickly wrote out a note and left it on his bedroom door before carrying his luggage downstairs and leaving the house. He was soon in a taxi he had called and was on his way.

Arthur hadn't heard the door open or close, or could he hear anything. He felt numb, sore and everything just ached for some reason.  
He was flushed and sobbing still, tear stained cheeks adorned him and sweat lightly trickled down from his forehead. His sheets were slightly sticky and certainly needed cleaning. This was horrid! What was Arthur meant to think about this! It was all just a rage of confusion racing across his mind.

"You stupid prick..." Arthur muttered, not about Francis but about himself. He should really say sorry or something. He must of well frightened Francis at the very least. No doubt things would be awkward, but that could get better. Arthur pushed his bottom lip out, getting up and slipping on some boxers before exiting his bedroom.

The place was quiet, and the adoring smell had soon wafted away. It was a pain, but he was sure he could talk Francis maybe into making them dinner before he left. Arthur made a sour look. Why would he even miss a frog!

Arthur halted, his heart fluttering softly against his chest. No! No way! Why the hell would any feelings even be created between a Frenchie he had come across the previous day! Maybe it was just a passing thought, since they did see each other naked and such and... Arthur shuddered, grimacing. It wasn't going to be the most splendid thing to remember, but right then it didn't seem so bad. He didn't like it! He would reject any of the feelings he felt right then! He hadn't felt them before, a small churning in his stomach as if he longed for something strongly.

Arthur got to the door, his head tilting to one side as he found a note with small and very neat handwriting on it. It looked so pretty, like calligraphy.

He quickly scanned over it, of course starting to chew his bottom lip.

"He left..." Arthur croaked, feeling a pain hammering down on his chest. He tried holding back the tears that jewelled the corner of his eyes, but now they continuously left there and ran down his cheeks. As if this was the last remaining thing left of Francis existence, he clutched the letter to his chest and cried.

It really did hurt, and he did have feelings for this man. It was crazy to ever think such a thing within less that 24 hours or even meeting the guy!  
"Fuck you, you stupid b-bastard..." He managed to mutter, turning away from the door. He didn't even say goodbye! That fucker!

Arthur peered to the door, a very saddened frown appearing before turning away and going back into his room. He just flopped back onto his dirty sheets, ignoring the cum that smeared on his leg a he then curled up and sobbed, the note sticking to the skin on his chest right over his pain filled heart. He probably may never of told Francis about any feelings building up if he was here, as he didn't work like that. He was too closed up and stubborn to let himself.

Arthur finally decided to just let his small sobs drive him to a tiredness that overwhelmed him and sent him off into a deep but shallow sleep.

* * *

Sorry... but there needs to be something to make the story carry on! I can't have them draped over eachother 24/7, even though that's what it is like in my dreans~


End file.
